


Growing up to be Heroes

by likestoimagine



Series: That one AU where Tadashi is totally alive [2]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Alive!Tadashi, Gen, Guilt, Microbots, Tadashi actually talks now, The other dimension is now a dreamscape, because I said so, i think, kind of hurt/comfort?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likestoimagine/pseuds/likestoimagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, what comes after an origin story</p>
<p>(Chapter 4 - Easy to Do Nothing, Hard to Forgive - Forgiveness is difficult on both ends. The Hamada brothers manage it anyways.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Picking Up Stray Pieces

Even though Hiro would love nothing more than to go home and hug Aunt Cass and fall asleep for a few days, he can’t retire for the night quite yet (it’s not night yet, it’s not even _twilight_ ). Unfortunately for him, there’s still something he needs to check on, just in case.

 

Namely, he needs to make sure that all of the microbots have truly disappeared. Because, last time he thought they’d all been destroyed… well, that had been a lot more complicated than it had any right to be.

 

He can’t really check now, though - those little buggers are _small_ (cuz, microbot. It’s kind of in the name) and he doesn’t have a way to look for them that doesn’t involve crawling on his hands and knees and digging them out of rubble, which would be both extremely impractical and incredibly exhausting.

 

If Baymax were here, he’d be able to scan for them easily.

 

If Baymax were here, he wouldn’t feel so drained, and this wouldn’t be such a challenge in the first place.

 

… Anyways, now that the site doesn’t look like its going to implode or anything, a lot of the reporters and journalists who had hightailed it out of there earlier are wandering back in, and none of the college-students-turned-heroes really feel like dealing with the public right now. So, the team leaves after taking one last look at the scene, somehow managing to escape notice despite their brightly colored uniforms (probably because its easier to avoid detection when not being flanked by a giant red-suited robot…)

 

Somehow they manage to find their way to Fred’s mansion without trouble (it may have involved a helicopter at some point, but Hiro honestly can’t remember), where they trudge into spare rooms and gratefully trade in their cracked, torn, and dust-streaked uniforms for a hot shower.

 

Hiro still can’t get over the fact that Fred’s mansion is large enough that they all literally have entire suites to themselves that they can use to freshen up, though this ends up being very useful as Hiro walks out of the shower and into a clean set of clothes, then promptly face-plants on the massive marshmallow bed for the next three hours (so maybe he can take a _little_ break).

 

When he wakes to twilight and sheepishly wanders into their semi-adopted home base, dubbed Fred’s Geek Cave earlier by Hiro himself, it becomes apparent that just about everyone else had the same idea - though Fred and Honey look moderately awake as they lounge, GoGo is still rubbing sleep out her eyes, and Wasabi doesn’t actually wander in until shortly after Hiro himself does.

 

They all manage to share some slightly strained, light-hearted laughs over the fact, and friendly small talk commences until Fred eventually - and somewhat randomly - blurts, “Hey, you guys wanna just make this, like, an epic sleepover?”

 

This is met by general murmurs of assent that are only half because no one wants the trouble of actually moving to get back to their own beds.

 

Hiro, however, is noticeably silent - it’s understandable, considering everything he’s been through _and_ how close he was to Baymax, but it’s also worrying enough that after a few moments Honey pulls herself away from preliminary sleepover brainstormings in order to sit down beside him and ask, “Hiro, is everything alright?” while brushing his bangs out of his face.

 

Starting out of his introspection, Hiro stutters, “Wh-what? Oh, I’m fine. I just… kind of want to go home tonight. Still tired, you know?”

 

Well, that and he wants to work on making a new neurocranial transmitter so that he can go and case out the wreckage of the new Krei Tech building, but the others don’t need to know that now. They’ve already exhausted themselves fighting Callaghan earlier, and he doesn’t really want to pull them away from their celebration to deal with what quite possibly is nothing more than his paranoia.

 

He doesn’t expect _every single one of them_ to offer to take him home, even over his protests that he can get home on his own (actually, _especially_ over his protests that he can get home on his own, judging by the significant increase in noise after that particular statement).

 

When he finally tries to make the argument that its not even _that_ far of a walk and he doesn’t really have a mode of transportation that can accommodate all of them anyways, Fred just laughs and gestures for the entire group to follow him.

 

Hiro follows somewhat bemused, not entirely registering that being flanked at the sides by Honey and GoGo, followed by Wasabi, and lead at point by Fred means that he’s effectively blocked off from all escape. Or more to the point, all potential solitary trips back home.

 

Also, he somehow manages to forget that Fred is _filthy stinking rich_ , which is impressive considering that they’re actually in Fred’s mansion of filthy stinking richness - Hiro’s not sure if that says more about his state of inattentiveness or Fred’s generally lax attitude towards his wealth, but either way it spells out his need to get some actual sleep soon, not just a nap. Not that he’s actually going to listen to that particular instinct, though, since he has things to do and a great talent for ignoring the voice of reason.

 

Hiro abruptly remembers that Fred is actually loaded once they end up in the garage (which could double as a car showroom, its so big and spacious) and there’s a beautiful new green van sitting in one of the many, _many_ garage stalls.

 

Wasabi is staring, probably because that van is exactly like the one that he used to drive everyone around in, before he lost it - except it’s not missing a door, doesn’t have a caved in ceiling, and is completely _not_ waterlogged, along with being about ten years newer and a fresh forest green that’s completely unlike the cracked, serviceable paint job that his old ride sported.

 

Its still strange despite its familiarity (or because of it), since this isn’t really the kind of car that a rich aristocratic family tends to own. Indeed, that particular van is sitting neighbor to a series of sleek, modern cars, all of which are varying states of black, red, and/or foreign that is more fitting to the socialite lifestyle.

 

So, it’s only mostly a surprise when Heathcliff announces their arrival at Wasabi’s new van, even if Wasabi himself does try to argue against receiving such an expensive present.

 

Fred casually explains that its no big deal, he meant to get the van to him sooner but didn’t quite have the chance to (code for: he was too distracted by their origin story to remember to present the vehicle to him), and that they really couldn’t help what happened to his other car given the _unique circumstances_ , so he should just take it without feeling guilty or anything irrational like that.

 

Wasabi tries to refuse again, because it’s kind of too expensive to just be giving away like that and he’s been working his way towards a new van anyways.

 

The argument starts to take an awfully circular cast to it before GoGo finally groans and opens the back door and climbs in, tossing a quick, “We can argue about this later, we’re supposed to be getting Hiro home, remember?” over her shoulder.

 

She’s quickly followed by Hiro being herded in protectively by Honey Lemon, then the girl herself. Wasabi finally shrugs helplessly before entering the driver’s seat, though he also looks at Fred like he thinks his grin is entirely too pleased for having just given away an expensive new shiny thing free of charge (though its not really a surprise, since it’s entirely within his character to do so, to be honest).

 

The drive home is a lot more subdued than their last ride in a Wasabi van, partially because nothing is going to be topping their last ride anytime soon but mostly because it’s been a long day, to put it mildly. Hiro especially, after facing the swirling dimension and the loss of Baymax, has a melancholic weariness pulling his at his heart and tossing his thoughts around like lazy butterflies, tumbling in the faintest breeze.

 

At one point he wonders why GoGo is sitting in the back with him rather than in the shotgun seat she prefers, but then he’s pulled into a one armed hug, and it’s clear that her normally jealously guarded soft side is rearing up again. Honey has his hand in a soothing hold, and the mirror reflects Fred’s concerned eyes and Wasabi’s more fleeting worried glances.

 

Hiro sinks gratefully into the warmth of his friends, head drooping until it rests on GoGo’s shoulder, and the blue cloud hovering around him thins out just a bit - enough that the passing of time before Wasabi pulls up in front of the Lucky Cat Cafe is not much more than a comfortable haze, and its a minor shock that Honey is scooting out of her seat to let Hiro out.

 

She catches Hiro in a quick hug as he exits the car, and Wasabi doesn’t pull out until Hiro is well on his way up the stairs to the living room. It’s oddly touching, this small gesture that they’re worried about him and want him to be safe and rested.

 

oOoOo

 

That doesn’t stop him from working on the transmitter though, once he reassures Aunt Cass that he’s fine and totally was not caught up in the Krei Tech thing, because why would he have been? Thats _totally absurd_ , right?

 

(He fails to realize that she’s completely not buying it but recognizes his need for rest over an interrogation right now. Luckily for him, she hasn’t quite caught on to the fact that he has other plans.)

 

Since Hiro had never actually gotten around to dumping all the microbot plans he’d originally drawn up, it’s easy enough for him to make another transmitter, even if it does take a while. Now, he just has to hope that Callaghan was too wrapped up in his revenge plot to think of changing the receiver frequency and that he’ll be able to sneak his way out past Aunt Cass and Mochi. And that the site in question won’t be police guarded, considering how large that particular disaster was. And that the microbots will still be functional enough to react to the transmitter. Wow, maybe Hiro should have planned this out more, but he has enough time to do part of the search manually. Its not like there’s much else for him to do now.

 

Aunt Cass and Mochi are both heavy sleepers, so if he leaves at three, that at least shouldn’t be a problem.

 

Usually, if he decides to sneak out of the house, Tadashi is the main worry. It doesn’t hurt as much now that he _isn’t_ , and Hiro can’t tell if it’s because he’s made his peace with his (temporary, it has to be) absence from the house or if it’s because he’s still in shock or something.

 

He decides not to think about it as he eases the garage door up and wheels his bike out to the street, as he flies down deserted streets and passes by windows blackened by darkness, as the squeak of his bike and the clatter of rolling pedals whispers through the blue stain of night.

 

oOoOo

 

It takes a while for him to make his way to the newly rubbled remains of the Krei Tech building, but Hiro eventually arrives at the site with his breath puffing pearlescent in the moonlight. His only company is the swath of caution tape and the littering of signs that all have messages best summed up as ‘ _stay away_!’. Hiro promptly decides that both are warnings that don't apply to superheroes, even if they’re out of uniform and working under the cloak of night.

 

Still, he parks his bike out of sight before he snags the new transmitter from his pocket and settles it’s weight on his head. Even though he hasn’t worn the headband since the night of the exhibition (and the fire), the pocket-warmed metal feels familiar like fingers in his hair or Mochi licking at his face - its a weird feeling, the comfort of tech that he knows like himself mixed up with the bitterness about the microbots being stolen and used by Callaghan to attempt murder.

 

That’s not important now. Now, Hiro needs to focus on projecting his thoughts to any straggling microbots so that he can gather them into a group that’s just a little bit more. Even though he built the transmitter and the microbots with a considerable range, he still cases the wreckage by foot, using a high-powered flashlight to scout out any nooks and crannies that look like they might be able to trap small robots. He wants to be absolutely sure that there’s not a single bot left by the time he’s done.

 

As Hiro prowls through the site a small wave of microbots forms behind him, because it ends up that even with the vacuum force of the portal sucking microbots up like tapioca in milk tea, there are a _lot_ of places for small fragments to hide when their backdrop is building rubble.

 

Some of the bots are damaged and twitch erratically. _All_ of the microbots twist and shudder when Hiro pushes back at flashes of iridescent fog and crumbling armor and white fading smaller into the distance. But no matter what, they always follow the young genius more smoothly than they ever obeyed Callaghan, whose vengeance they answered in jagged daggers and choppy floods.

 

Time passes as Hiro does, and microbots follow like puppies after their master. He passes sites where spikes are imprinted half a foot deep into concrete, where lines have been scoured into the ground, where torn up walls were primed to crush a man, and he remembers that the microbots can destroy and kill. Not so much puppies after all.

 

His litter grows and grows and grows and Hiro moves forwards, and by the end of the plot he has a following entourage that’s about five trash cans strong - hardly a dent in what Yokai produced, but almost all that Hiro used in his exhibition, so long ago.

 

Now that Hiro is sure that all of the microbots have been collected and are in his care, he can finally make his way back to the garage. Getting home, with the help of his microbots, is a lot easier. So, no matter how he feels about the microbots, there’s that at least.

 

oOoOo

 

Hiro has the stray microbots, but what can he do with them now? Or rather, what does he _want_ to do with them? Because, the microbots are useful, but they probably don’t have the best reputation right now. And, Hiro isn’t even entirely sure how he feels about keeping them, seeing as they were the catalyst for Tadashi’s hospitalization and abused for destruction.

 

The thought of Tadashiinthehospital and wreckageallaround and Baymaxgoinggoinggone flares in an agitated spike mirrored by the twisting microbots, and Hiro yanks the headband off his head, flings it at the wall.

 

It stops with a ringing crash and clatters to the ground along with a pile of directionless robots, making Hiro flinch and pray that his family doesn’t wake up. The transmitter doesn’t break, though, and the hot flash of anger at his tech - his _creation_ with his heart and energy and hopes for the future sunk into the very code - being violated by that monster-who-was-once-a-teacher settles. It’s still present, but not so overwhelming anymore.

 

A sigh breaks loose from Hiro, long and heavy to match his day (his yesterday? It’s kind of five in the morning right now…), and he sinks into his chair so that he can reopen the folder with the microbot schematics. The holographic green diagram, dotted with short-hand and cluttered with formulas, coding, and structural detail, is the culmination of hundreds of hours of meticulous care and hard work, beautifully complex in a way that’s difficult for even Hiro to wrap his mind around sometimes and absolutely revolutionary for SFIT and the world at large.

 

Hiro raises his hand so that he can swipe the entire thing into the computer trash bin.

 

And… Hiro pauses. This, along with his superhero armor series, is possibly his greatest work thus far. Certainly, he’s poured the more of himself into this project than he’s ever given high school or bot-fighting, and while it’s most definitely not his magnum opus (because how lame would it be to peak at _fourteen_ , really), the microbots are the key that have opened up the doors of SFIT and a whole new world of innovation to him.

 

The microbots have been used to hurt and attempt murder. They have been used to hurl concrete and metal at students, to stab and crush and chase them to a cold, salt-water death, they’ve been used to build a portal meant to destroy a man.

 

But, they were made to help - they were made to aid in construction and transportation, they were made to build the future, they were made for infinite possibilities. They were made so that Hiro could walk through the doors of SFIT and learn more than he’s ever had the chance to, so that he could change the world with his brother and his new friends by his side.

 

Is he really going to let Callaghan destroy this, too? Is he angry enough to let that happen, to let the traitor taint the core of the microbots, in order to wipe his presence away from that much more?

 

…No, Hiro’s not letting Callaghan take this away as well. He’s already taken months from Tadashi, he’s nearly taken Hiro’s heart and crushed it under his heel, he’s taken Baymax’s comforting presence away, he’s not taking the microbots, too. Yokai is not worth Tadashi’s stolen time, he’s not worth Baymax lost to a pocket dimension (though Hiro will never regret saving Abigail), he’s not worth the microbots. That shadow of a man is not worth Hiro’s energy and his anger and his hatred - he learned all that in this very garage, just the other day, and he’s not going to forget any time soon because Hiro is a genius, after all.

 

So. He’s not going to destroy the microbots. But, how can he make them safer, how can he prevent them from being abused again? Because Hiro may have chosen not destroy the bots, but he’s also _not_ going to let anyone else use them to destroy. Not again, never again.

 

Well, he should probably see about a patent, to prevent them from being stolen and made at leisure, and so that they can be tracked and regulated and safeguarded. More immediately though, there has to be something else he can do…

 

Maybe he could key in the transmitter to only react to a certain brain frequency? So that even if the transmitter were to be stolen like before, it wouldn’t work for anyone but the person it was intended for (so that if someone like Callaghan tries to steal the transmitter, it won’t work for them at all).

 

That sounds good, for now. He’s going to have to program the microbots to only receive from the transmitter they’re set to, as well, so it looks like he’s got a long night (morning) ahead of him, but after this is all done, the microbots will be that much safer to use, and that much closer to changing the world for the better rather then the worse.

 

Aunt Cass finds him at eleven in the morning, when she decides that Hiro has had enough sleep and goes to wake him up only to find that he never actually touched his bed. He’s asleep and nearly falling out of his chair, with both the blue-and-white headband and a satisfied smile to his name, and she’s not sure if she should scold him or if she should give him a hug and a plate of cookies to celebrate whatever has him smiling.


	2. Half Baked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tadashi insists he had a plan. Hiro thinks otherwise.

Hiro goes to visit his brother a lot once he wakes up. Obviously, because Tadashi has been comatose for months, and Hiro really wants to play catch up with his big brother (kind of. The superhero side of catch up is definitely waiting for Tadashi to leave the hospital, at the very _least_ ).

 

Tadashi’s still kind of weak, though he’s healing. That’s the only reason why this particular conversation doesn’t happen until approximately three weeks after he’s woken up.

 

oOoOo

 

“Are you all right?” Hiro asks, just as he always does when he comes back from SFIT. And while Tadashi sometimes thinks of answering to the affirmative despite feeling otherwise, he doesn’t - mainly because living with Aunt Cass has pretty much trained both of them to not to say they’re okay unless its actually true, or the ear-pulling jars something, then Aunt Cass starts _fussing_ , and there’s no escape for the next 24 hours at _least_. If they tell her whats wrong straight up its usually only a few hours of mother-henning at most.

 

So, when he replies, “I’m fine,” Tadashi does actually mean it - he’s still a little weaker than he’d like, but he’s coming along nicely and has even regained most of his appetite.

 

Hiro apparently believes him, because once he hears the affirmation, he explodes, “Then what were you thinking, running into a burning building without a plan?! Aren’t you supposed to be a genius, knucklehead?!”

 

He starts furiously poking at his brother - arm, stomach, forehead, whatever isn’t bandaged or being guarded is being assaulted by little fingers, and Hiro looks like he’s seriously considering pulling at Tadashi’s ear as well, if the way that his fingers migrate towards said appendage is any indication. For whatever reason, he decides against it, and Tadashi supposes he should at least be somewhat grateful for that.

 

He still flails and tries to block off his brother’s attack as best he can, but its a struggle for him to fend off an angry Hiro even when he’s not hospitalized, so it takes a while for him to grab his brother’s wrists and get out a somewhat indignant, “Hey, I had a plan!”

 

Hiro actually pauses, like the shock of such a statement has frozen his brain or something, and now Tadashi is actually indignant, because really, what kind of an idiot does Hiro think he is?

 

…According to the _look_ that Hiro is giving him, complete with the half-lidded eyes and the flat line of his mouth, he thinks his older brother is _quite_ an idiot. He confirms as much when he snaps, “Really, because it looked like you were running into a burning building to me!”

 

Abruptly, Tadashi’s little brother deflates and sags into his chair, far too exhausted to be the flailing fourteen year old he was minutes earlier. Hiro buries his head in arms now folded on the hospital cot, and murmurs “…You really scared me, Dashi…”.

 

There are tears quivering at the cusp of his voice, hints of dampness in the way his eyes are pressed against baggy blue sleeves.

 

Tadashi isn’t sure if he’s supposed to have heard that, but the vulnerable admission - so _young_ , and Tadashi almost left him behind forever, how could he have done that? - pricks at his heart, tightens it uncomfortably as it’s finally dawning on him just how much this has affected his brother. How much his little Hiro had to heal before Tadashi even woke.

 

Maybe it had been a dumb idea to run into the fire that night, but Tadashi doesn’t regret trying to save a life, even if things didn't work out the way he’d hoped (even if he _couldn’t_ save anyone, even if Callaghan didn’t need to be saved, even if some might say that it would have been better for Callaghan to die… it’s probably more accurate to say he doesn’t regret the instinct to save, even if this time it failed him spectacularly).

 

His only regret, the only thing that will ever make Tadashi think twice in the future, is that he almost left Hiro behind - his baby brother, who the world sometimes still refuses to understand, who has already lost so much and deserves so much more than to lose half his family again. Tadashi is supposed to help Hiro grow, and he nearly broke him instead.

 

The very least that Tadashi owes his brother is an explanation (there will never be enough that Tadashi can do for Hiro, never enough that can make up for hurting him so deeply, but this is how he can start on a lifetime), so he runs his fingers through Hiro’s fluffy black hair and whispers, “I’m sorry for scaring you, Hiro… I thought if I could get to your microbots, I’d be able to use them to help Callaghan. I never would have gone if I thought I might leave you behind for good.”

 

Hiro leans closer to his brother’s gentle warmth and releases a heavy sigh. Tilting his head and cracking open an eye, Hiro grumbles (and his voice is only slightly quivery), “Yeah, well… Callaghan had about the same idea.”

 

Tadashi had learned as much, when he was lucid enough to enquire about his ex-professor. Hiro himself was completely reluctant to talk about anything related to the man, but the others were willing to tell him a little (though Tadashi strongly suspects there was a lot more they _weren’t_ telling him) and the news filled him in on the rest.

 

_The rest_ is something else entirely - while normally the arrival of a brand new superhero team would capture his interest no problem, this time Tadashi has a hard time focusing on much more than the fact that his gentle, upstanding mentor tried to destroy Krei’s livelihood in cold blood. The only reason Tadashi can even accept this as a possibility is because of Hiro’s frigid response to anything related to the man, because of the way that Aunt Cass clenches her hand like she’s ready to punch the old man. The hard truth is in how GoGo narrows her eyes with a glare like lightning, how Fred chews on his lip in meditative silence, how Wasabi twists his hands in agitation and how Honey Lemon glances around in worry, but even still it’s almost too unbelievable for Tadashi to comprehend.

 

…For now though, reconciling Callaghan with Yokai isn’t important. What he needs to do is chase the bitter tang of Hiro’s misplaced guilt away, so Tadashi forces back his haphazard thoughts in order to grin wryly and say, “Well, that’s just because your inventions are so amazing, right? Everyone just wants to get their hands on it.”

 

Hiro hums noncommittally, which isn’t exactly the preening distraction he hoped for, so Tadashi continues on a different track (the one that actually addresses the problem), “You know its not your fault that all this happened, right? That he would probably have found another way eventually, and that Abigail was likely saved because he used your microbots when he did, right?”

 

He doesn’t stop carding though his brother’s hair, doesn’t stop the soothing motion that eases some of the tension in Hiro’s thin, hunched shoulders.

 

After a long silence Hiro, having turned his head back to its place on his arms, replies with a muffled, “Yeah…”

 

For a second, Tadashi thinks he’s going to fall silent again, but Hiro instead continues, with his voice softened by blue cloth, “I still feel like I should have done more to prevent that sort of thing from happening, though. I already salvaged all the microbots that weren't sucked into the portal and reprogrammed them so they can only be used by specific people, but there has to be more I can do. I don’t want this to happen again.”

 

His brother is such a knucklehead, really. He tries so hard to act like an aloof fourteen year old rebel when he’s really one of the sweetest people Tadashi knows. He wants to learn more and more every day, to help and love people with all his soul, to take responsibility for the world on his shoulders, but he doesn’t realize that being a genius doesn’t mean he can predict the workings of the world, or the people in it.

 

It’s disgusting, that Callaghan used his baby brother’s invention - saturated with his innovation and his hard work and his hopes and dreams for building a new future, filled to the brim with _Hiro_ \- and twisted it to his own corrosive goal. And its awful, that Hiro feels any sort of guilt over the fact.

 

(This, more than anything, is why Tadashi will never forgive the professor, never acknowledge that shadow of a man as his teacher again - because that man hurt the very child who could have learned everything from him, because he hurt Tadashi’s most precious baby brother, because _he hurt Hiro_.)

 

“Hiro, it’s not your fault.” Tadashi twists to face his brother head on and digs his fingers into the crook between his arms and his face. Guiding the boy’s head up, he murmurs, “Hey, look at me,” and when Hiro tries to avert his gaze, he tilts his chin up until they’re looking eye to eye.

 

“You didn’t think they’d be stolen, or that anyone would want to use them to hurt people,” Tadashi starts, speaking in a soft hum. He thinks of the bounce in Hiro’s step as he darted from one end of the garage to the other months ago, planning and building and shrinking down machines to tiny pills of revolution. He thinks of Hiro bubbling over with laughter shared with friends, thinks of bright eyes and wide smiles and hugs shared wholeheartedly and pours all that utterly blameless light into his voice as he says, “That’s who you are, Hiro, and that’s why you never saw this coming. Now that you know what other people see, you can do your best to safeguard them from future misuse and dissuade more people from getting the same idea.”

 

He shifts his hands so they rest solidly on Hiro’s small shoulders, and continues, “Beyond that, though, there’s not much else you can do. People will always find ways to abuse the tools available to them, but your microbots can do so much good, too. There’s no reason to be ashamed of making them, and there’s no reason to believe it’s your fault for making them.”

 

Hiro is still silent, but he’s shifted from the sad, guilt ridden fog from earlier. His brown eyes - wide with youth and perpetual curiosity - are still locked on his, though they’ve brightened from melancholy to something that’s still weighty, but different.  Tadashi thinks that Hiro might finally understand what he’s been saying all along, and he gives Hiro a quick hair ruffling,  pretending to not notice when Hiro wipes clean tears from his eyes.

 

“Thanks, Tadashi…” he mumbles, not quite meeting his eyes and smiling bashfully like he only does when he’s laying his heart bare, when he’s truly, truly touched and a little embarrassed by the emotion of it all (like he did when he was thanking Tadashi for not giving up on him, months-like-centuries ago in the soft, faraway glow of the Ito Ishioka Labs).

 

He hesitates, then he peeks up through fluffy bangs and asks, “It’s… It’s really not my fault?”

 

Tadashi smiles at his genius who is just a boy, and he answers, “It never was your fault. You are not responsible for Callaghan’s actions, and you never will be. If he wanted to abuse your _incredibly helpful invention_ , then that’s completely on him.”

 

He’s somewhat surprised when he feels thin arms wrap gingerly around his side, but Tadashi gladly returns the hug, resting his chin on Hiro’s fluffy head. (And if there’s still something that’s bothering Hiro, something gnawing at him that Tadashi can’t quite see from his angle, he is willing to wait until Hiro is ready to talk. He’s planning on having a lifetime with his brother, after all.)

 

They stay like that for a few sunshine-bright moments, then Hiro pulls away and asks, “Hey, Tadashi, you want to hear about my latest project?” with the voice of an excited puppy, and Tadashi knows that his genius little brother is going to be fine.


	3. A Guard Dog and Fever Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tadashi doesn't know how to help his brother, now that he's missed months of the young genius's life. (He doesn't know that he's been by Hiro's side all along.)

To Tadashi, being an older brother in part means protecting his younger brother - doing whatever he can to not just keep him safe, but to help him grow into the person who he is meant to be. This does mean he wants to keep his brother alive, happy, and whole, so to this end, Tadashi has developed a pretty stellar sixth sense - born from love, worry, and quite a bit of intelligence at his disposal - for what Hiro needs.

 

Be it casual indifference or earnest support, space to breathe or a hug close by, Tadashi (almost) always knows the best way to deal with his brother and to pull him on the right track, and without stifling the poor boy to boot.

 

(For the less intuitive things, Tadashi has this magical piece of tech known as a GPS, waterproof and wear-resistant and sewn into the lining of Hiro’s jacket-that-is-a-safety-blanket, that lets him find his _utter bonehead_ of a brother when he’s off being illegal.)

 

…He hadn’t quite counted on a coma putting a damper on his intuitive capabilities. Or rather, he hadn’t counted on the disconnect that would occur as a result - because he still has his love and care for his brother, he still has the worry for his little genius thrown into the unforgiving world, he still has his brains to help him bind it all together and focus it to productivity, but… he doesn’t know what happened during that time when his world was little more than blackness and fever dreams, and it’s left him missing some very important details. He’s missing too many vital parts, and the well calibrated machine that is his big brother instinct is suffering.

 

Also, being near bedridden doesn’t really help him to keep tabs on his danger-prone little brother.

 

He guesses that Callaghan, with his supervillain-esqe plot to destroy Krei as revenge for Abigail’s disappearance, was involved (because of course he was, the man’s plot involved _stealing Hiro’s invention_ ), but Tadashi just can’t see what the overarching connection actually is.

 

(He can’t see how the shadow of his teacher fits together with his missing time and Hiro’s mending heart to paint the picture of Hiro’s nightmares and lingering guilt.)

 

What he _can_ see are the small things, like how Hiro has taught Baymax their signature fist bump and now just about every fist held for more than two seconds is met with “Bada-lada-lada-la~”. Or, how Baymax seems to have a stronger understanding of figures of speech now, stronger than expected for something that should be just a robot.

 

That doesn’t really worry him - it’s a little disquieting to see Baymax act so human (and a little more so to realize that it’s not always a shock), but this will probably help the Baymax series with even more people in the future, so it’s fine. If anything, since nothing needs to be fixed, this is actually really exciting, and Tadashi can’t wait to study Baymax at length later.

 

There are good things - great things that don’t worry Tadashi in the least. First and foremost is that Hiro is finally in SFIT. Glowing with joy and brimming with a world of ideas, he’s finally happy in a way he hasn’t been since he was tiny and following Tadashi around like a duckling who happened to be capable of granting Mochi rocket-powered flight.

 

He dodges noogies from Fred and taps GoGo on the shoulder specifically so that he can duck around and try to trick her (to no avail). He photobombs Honey’s pictures and stands at corners waiting to startle Wasabi, all in a whirlwind of bright smiles and teasing fourteen-year-old mischief. Its completely unlike the quiet reluctance or biting sarcasm he wears around strangers, and it’s this more than anything that tells Tadashi that his baby brother has finally found life-long friends.

 

Hiro greets Tadashi with a hug at least once every day and whispers “I love you” every night, and Tadashi knows that he does the same for Aunt Cass.

 

No, this is not what worries Tadashi (though it may make him jealous, that he has to share his little brother). What worries (and frustrates, because he can’t fix any of this, how can he when he doesn’t even know what the problem is?) him are other things - Hiro waking with broken sobs and wide, unseeing eyes reflecting the chill-blue night, Hiro panicking when he sees the opened folding screen blocking Tadashi’s side of the room from view, Hiro staring at his hands like he’s seeing dripping red monster claws instead of inventor fingers still slightly chubby with vestigial baby fat.

 

Baymax, refusing to open his access port without a long, detailed explanation as to the exact reason why along with a scan for emotional state. The fact that he’s decided to download an entire database on dealing with _depression and emotional distress_ , and how the others sometimes flinch when Baymax’s camera-eyes flash red in sunset…

 

There’s a lot Tadashi’s missing, now. And he knows that this time, its not as simple as bot-fighting.

 

oOoOo

 

For Tadashi, there are always dreams. Even in the inky void of his consciousness, trapped in the prison of his own body and mind, there are dreams. Windows, through which he can see blurry visions and half-remembered memories.

 

In the beginning it’s not much more than flame light and broiling heat, snapping wood and a sharp crack followed by explosive pain. He doesn’t know if it lasts for a minute or for a day, for a week or an eternity, but finally, after desert dryness and fire burning bright, the ashes settle to silence.

 

Silence holds for a long time, in the heavy weight of tears that don’t quite spill from a numbed heart, in a small boy bottling himself up and pouring himself out into carbon fibers and armored plates. There are other impressions in this darkness - a facade of cheer bounding around tables threaded through window-filtered sunbeams, murmurs fluttering through a twilight vigil, friends holding each other together and reaching out to another - but the strongest feeling (the quietest voice) is always the same, always the defeated murmur of a boy who has lost his sun-bright brilliance to grief and wonders _why_?

 

———

 

Then it’s a loud “ow” instead. There’s _almost_ a feeling of waking up, and there’s a flash of messy black, of a tired, unusually dull brown. It’s light, and vision that sometimes goes just a little bit blue, and a stare thats half baffled, half frustrated, tilted up to look at … him? But it’s not. Huh. Tadashi is a watcher now, except he’s not sure what he’s watching or where he’s watching from.

 

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?

 

Zero is not on the scale, nor is it the truth. But the boy in front of him is experiencing mood swings and adolescent troubles, consistent with puberty, so that can probably be given a pass. (Doesn’t he know this already? _Should_ he know this?)

 

There is a tap, tap, tap… a little robot is trying to go somewhere, struggling against glass, and he wonders where it is trying to go.

 

Will finding the little robot’s destination improve your emotional state? No, but whatever is moving doesn’t understand sarcasm. Or traffic, so off Tadashi goes, pulled along like a child’s balloon. Tadashi is, in this moment, kind of glad that he doesn’t have an actual body to hurt - he may be here for now, but he’s little more than a specter, a ghost that could probably fade with a breath, so he doesn’t need to worry about small things like getting run over.

 

And then his relief is little more than a candle flame in the face of a typhoon, because what the small robot leads them to is horrifying. Whatever he’s seeing - hundreds of thousands more of the little robots, rising in a wave like ink, trying to crush the young boy and his robotic ride - is _important_ , he knows. And whatever this is, it makes him _angry_ like he’s never been, though he doesn’t know how he knows that, either.

 

There’s a lot that he doesn’t know, but Tadashi knows that this is abuse of the worst kind, that the robots aren’t made for this. This isn’t how they’re meant to be used because they’re made for so much _more_. (He doesn’t even know what more is.)

 

The robot - because now he’s sure he’s haunting a robot, somehow familiar even as the impression dances away - isn’t angry like he is. Instead, it’s loopy, and Tadashi can’t tell if this is frustrating or hilarious. He gets the feeling it was meant as a joke, though, to make one person laugh.

 

This is the last thing he knows, and his world fades to black, for now.

 

———

 

Tadashi is here.

 

Yes, Tadashi thinks, this is true. He’s not sure where here is, though, and he fades all too quickly, can barely hear the young boy say that he’s not here because he’s …where? before he’s swallowed back into his darkness.

 

———

 

Karate, the boy says, will make him a better healthcare companion. Well, he says it will make his carrier a better companion, and the robot takes that statement to heart, decides that if this is the case, then it would be best to accept these strange karate moves.

 

The robot practices karate, and its a foreign dance - breaking wood and punching at the air, hard moves that can shatter stone and don’t heal. Except, its familiar deep to his bones (or whatever the mental equivalent is), which makes Tadashi think that this is a pattern he’s performed before, eons ago.

 

Their exhibition seems to please the boy, which in turn pleases Tadashi (even if he can’t actually _control_ anything that happens). He thinks that it pleases the nursing robot as well - in so much as robots can be pleased.

 

Bada~lada~lada~la~

 

Because, though the boy’s young eyes still hold the fragile shine of glass hairline fractured, he’s finally moving again, creating diamonds in the rough with his small inventor hands. Karate, it ends up, is good for the boy’s health.

 

Running off and trying to catch a murderous masked man is less so, and this statement is not revised in the least when the man throws a shipping container at them. Tadashi can’t do anything to stop the boy, though, nor can he actually try to talk him out of it, so he guesses that’s that (it doesn’t stop him from trying - and failing.)

 

Tadashi gets the feeling that he wouldn’t listen, anyways. He can imagine the boy arguing, throwing the warning back into his face. Why can he imagine this? He knows this boy, but he doesn’t know how, because that’s the story of his half-life now. It’s frustrating, to say the least.

 

…The boy is Hiro, he hears, and the roll of the words through the air is a half-forgotten melody. There is Hiro, and his robot is Baymax, and there is a Honey Lemon, a Wasabi, a GoGo, and a Fred.

 

The cadence of the names falls as easy as breathing (is he breathing? …he thinks he is, somewhere), and Tadashi thinks that he belongs here. He wants to be here, but he’s can’t be, not really. Because, he can’t do anything when he’s nothing more than the voiceless watcher. He can’t even help as their group is pursued to the bay and the van crashes into frigid salt water.

 

He can’t tell them how dangerous it is to be following the masked man, nor can he watch their backs after they disregard his warning.

 

———

 

The masked man is no longer masked, and there’s something significant about the face behind the facade, about the hard eyes and grim set of mouth that have lost all shades of kindness. He doesn’t remember this man, but everything’s _wrong_. This person is supposed to be strict-yet-fair, he’s not supposed to try to kill small boys and students for trying to stop him. He’s supposed to be a teacher building the future up (and how does he know this at all?)

 

Someone has to help, except that’s all a lie that he can’t quite grasp.

 

That was his mistake, and Tadashi hears a coffin lid closing (on what? What dies facing these four simple words?)

 

Then, Tadashi is pulled harshly, held in a shaking gloved hand by fingers curled like claws. He barely has time to realize the despairbetrayalanguishrage he feels is not just his own before he’s flung to the side, until there’s a ringing clatter and - _Baymax, destroy him_ \- and the world is washed in a terrifying, painful red.

 

Another set of hands - ungloved, with thinner fingers, calloused and shuddering - picks him up and then he’s back in his robotic shell.

 

The robot is a nurse meant to heal, but his healthcare protocol has been violated. A gentle giant regrets any distress his actions may have caused, but it was never really him because it was a small, lost boy instead.

 

Tadashi thinks that maybe he should be mad, but how can he be? This is his… his… who is this boy? He’s miserable, and furious, and so young to be left alone (but he isn’t alone, he has his friends and his cat and his aunt and his robot, so why is there a hole in the boy’s heart that makes Tadashi’s own heart _ache_?)

 

Tadashi would cry, if only he could. He knows this boy - Hiro, the boy is Hiro - has a smile brilliant like starlight, like his genius mind. He knows this boy is a honey gold core hidden in snark and pubescent awkwardness, he knows that this boy jealously guards himself from all but his family, but he doesn’t know who this boy is. He’s Hiro, and Tadashi doesn’t know what that means.

 

What he knows, though, is that Hiro is breaking and hurt beyond belief (and this hurts more than fire and suffocating heat, more than the crack of wood above his head and ink-dark blackness that he can’t escape, and this hurts Tadashi because this hurts Hiro).

 

Tadashi’s _gone_. He might as well be dead.

 

Tadashi is here.

 

This is the first test…the seventh, thirty-third, this is the eighty-fourth test of my robotics project. Is this who Tadashi is? Familiar words and familiar struggles right in front of him are still slipping away, mere ashes pouring through his fingers.

 

But Hiro’s healing now, so it doesn’t really matter. For the first time he’s crying, and it’s a bittersweet release. It’s bottled up pain set loose, it’s Hiro finally set free. Hiro is apologizing for not being his brother, but Tadashi thinks his brother wouldn’t want him any other way, because Hiro is too precious and too amazing and too _Hiro_ to change. (Is Tadashi the brother? He thinks so for a moment, but then the thought is whisked away.)

 

Hiro’s friends arrive and he’s not alone anymore (he’s never alone, he always has Baymax, and he always has Tadashi, even if Tadashi isn’t much more than a ghost.)

 

Tadashi would cry if he could. Because he’s so, so glad.

 

———

 

Baymax says that there are signs of life coming from the portal, and everything changes.

 

Hiro says someone has to help, and Tadashi hears his own voice echoed in the words.

 

And, when Hiro flies into the portal in order to save a woman in hyper-sleep, Tadashi can’t tell if he’s bursting with pride or if fear has him in it’s crushing grip.

 

He has Baymax, though, and he has Tadashi (in spirit, anyways), so Hiro will be fine. Or, that’s what Tadashi tells himself as they break through the dimension’s borders and enter a world of swirling fog and weightlessness, because there’s not much else he can do.

 

The place is strangely familiar, but Tadashi can’t quite figure it out. As Hiro and Baymax dodge debris and bits of flying building, it comes to him in slow, buoyant wisps - this dimension feels like the weightless darkness that’s the backstage to these fever dreams, feels like the time when he can’t see anything except for blackness and the shape of his muddled thoughts. This is a dimension of dreams - the subconscious made physical, metaphor made real - and Tadashi is here, and he’s awake-but-not.

 

(He wonders what this means - for the waking, for the sleeping, and for the in between.)

 

As Tadashi feels the swing of Baymax dodging bits of flying building, it occurs to him that this is the first time he’s felt physical sensation for as long as he remembers. It’s exhilarating even if it’s confusing, but ultimately Tadashi files that away for later observation… assuming he ever remembers this again. He’s soon distracted by the discovery of the teleporter’s pod - and by extension the teleporter herself (Abigail, he recalls, as he checks on her and hears echoes of a voice crying for a teacher who has fallen so far, for a father who’s lost himself to grief. He listens, and he hears the voice of a woman who can do nothing but watch as the world would burn down without her.)

 

Hiro glides to the pod, touches down on it softly. Once he’s on it and he’s made sure for himself that the pilot is alright, he reorients himself so that he’s perched on top of it, then he tells Baymax to go.

 

They make their way to the portal, and they’re almost back to the opening when things go wrong. Almost there, and then everything shakes to the core. Almost there, and Baymax’s thrusters are inoperable.

 

Hiro says just grab hold while standing at a seventy degree angle in dream-logic, anchored to the pod by the spirit of a woman who is here and yet still caught in a trance.

 

Baymax blinks, and takes the offered hand. He knows, with clarity, that there is still a way to get Hiro and Abigail both to safety.

 

But.

 

Newton’s Third Law is: each force has an equal and opposite force. Force equal mass times acceleration. Baymax, for all that he’s made to be lightweight, is quite a bit more massive than a rocket powered gauntlet. Therefore, his patient - his only concern - will accelerate (a bit) more if only the glove adds weight to the pod.

 

In this space where the only door available is rapidly closing, every bit counts, because _there is no time_. He tells this to Hiro, and the genius doesn’t seem to understand.

 

But what if Tadashi never comes back? _I can’t lose you, too_.

 

There is a spark within Baymax, small as a grain of sand trapped in a green heart. You don’t understand yet, but people need you. Fist bump: a thing that people do when they’re excited or… pumped up. That was, sick - it is just an expression. I’m so sorry. I’m not going to leave you here. _Please, no_.

 

Love unconditional, poured into a body of fibers and code for the sake of one brother, than another.

 

Love, that only grows stronger the more freely it is given.

 

Love, that _changes_. (The spark blooms brighter than starlight, a grain of sand becomes a flawless pearl.)

 

Hiro, I will always be with you.

 

Small arms wrap around a cornerstone that’s soft as a marshmallow, soft pillow arms match the embrace with the new knowledge of love, and a choked voice cracks. I’m satisfied with my care.

 

In the space of a robot’s blink, Tadashi realizes he has a pearl in his hands. He can move in this place that is a dream, and a rocket is about to launch.

 

All he can do - all thats left to do, really - is nestle the gem in a single red glove and pray for the best.

 

Then, Tadashi’s flying, except he’s pulled and split and then he’s not.

 

Tadashi is curled around a pearl, keeping it in a safe and warm hold. Tadashi is floating in a realm of weightless dreams. Tadashi sleeps, an invisible shell protecting a heart from the stress of the world. Tadashi fades, and settles in darkness to wait.

 

———

 

I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. Hello, Hiro.

 

Tadashi uncurls to a creator’s hands pushing back dark hair, to Hiro lit up with a smile of sunlight. There’s a warm hug, then Tadashi slips away.

 

For the first time in months, Tadashi stirs.


	4. Easy to Do Nothing, Hard to Forgive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tadashi wakes to dreams of a broken lab and a broken heart.
> 
> Hiro carries a burden that tries to bury him alive.

It’s days after Big Hero 6 finally reveals their identities to Tadashi, weeks after Tadashi is healed enough to restart his daily life, and months after Tadashi wakes up for the first time since the fire, before he finally starts this conversation with Hiro.

 

(In other words, this conversation is months late, and Hiro is once again waking with a hitch in his breath and a dry sob choked back, little more than a huddled silhouette of misery past folding screen paper.)

 

Tadashi wakes when Hiro does, as he has for all the past nightmares. He wakes, and he closes his eyes to vestigial dreams - to faint impressions of a dark, sprawling lab that’s torn up and quiet as a grave. He rubs at the bridge of his nose and sighs away smoke dyed by blood red light, brushes aside settling dust clouds as he pushes his folding screen closed.

 

In a few careful steps Tadashi makes his way over to Hiro’s bed - something that Hiro doesn’t register until Tadashi’s sitting on the edge and the mattress dips, just barely tipping him just that much closer to his older brother.

 

(Tadashi knows that this is when Hiro notices him because this is about the time that he has the living daylights squished out of him in a desperate, grasping hug.)

 

oOoOo

 

They sit in silent moonlight for a while. In this time, Tadashi - despite the fact that he has a Hiro sized limpet clamped to his side the entire time - somehow manages to maneuver the two of them so that they’re laying down on the bed, huddled close and curled side by side.

 

He isn’t entirely sure how Tadashi managed that, but his brother has always been amazing, so that might be explanation enough. But, whatever the methodology, Hiro is now nestled as comfortably as he can get, with his face buried in Tadashi’s nightshirt and his hands twisted tightly into the soft, well-worn material. Tadashi’s strong arms are wrapped around him, and matching his brother’s breathing breath by steady breath, Hiro calms.

 

Eventually, Tadashi asks if Hiro wants to talk about it, wants to share what’s got him so agitated. Hiro doesn’t want to, not really. But… he has nowhere else to go with this darkness - his shame that he’s the kind of person who could be so cruel, his guilt that he is the one who told Baymax to _destroy_ , the fear that he’ll fall into the same, poisonous trap again - and if he doesn’t let it go it’s going to bury him in bitter ashes stained by guilt and cruel words and corrosive, draining rage.

 

So instead he says, “When I first found out what Callaghan did, I nearly killed him.”

 

It’s little more than a whisper, yet the sentence hangs heavy and black in the air. Tadashi _almost_ speaks, but Hiro tenses, and he seems to get the message: that Hiro doesn’t know if he’ll be able to start again if he’s interrupted, that he needs to air his thoughts out in their entirety, unmasked, to finally let this go. So instead of speaking Tadashi listens, and combs his fingers through his little brother’s hair.

 

Hiro takes another breath, and tries to speak. The words strangle and die in his throat, so he tries again, shifting so that he can speak clearly but not once meeting Tadashi’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Dashi… I nearly destroyed Callaghan, and I nearly destroyed Baymax, too.”

 

“…I was so angry. We finally knocked off his mask, and I thought he was Krei, but it wasn’t him because it was Callaghan, and he said that it was your fault that you… you…” Hiro swallows, his grip on Tadashi’s shirt reflexively tightening and his eyes closing shut.

 

“I… I was so mad, I wanted to _destroy_ him more than anything else,” he continues in a reluctant whisper, words dragged out of his throat like they’re clawing through dark molasses before they start to spill over in a torrent. “I wanted to hurt him like he hurt you, and like he hurt me, so I threw away Baymax’s healthcare chip and I told Baymax to destroy him and… If it wasn’t for the others, Callaghan would be dead, Baymax would be ruined and Abigail would still be in that other dimension, and I almost ruined everything, I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m so, _so sorry_ , Tadashi, that I nearly destroyed everything you've  worked for… that I almost destroyed Baymax.”

 

Hiro’s voice cracks under the weight of his anxiety, and as he talks he slowly hides. By the time he’s done, Hiro is pretty much a ball pressed close to Tadashi, reminiscent of how Mochi was when he was a newly adopted stray, and aware of how his voice has slowly grown more muffled by the motion.

 

Curled up in this way, though, he can feel Tadashi’s heartbeat - a steady, slow _ba-dum_ that’s solid as he is, strong and warm and simply there in a way that Hiro has missed for an eternity. Even as he shivers, Tadashi shifts from rubbing circles into Hiro’s hair and moves to instead complete his half formed embrace.

 

There’s no judgement in his hold, though there’s a tension that might be anger, for only a moment. That quickly melts away, though, into a gentle warmth that’s soothing and kind and inviting, that promises Hiro that his older brother will always - gladly - take him back, no matter how badly he’s messed up.

 

And Hiro, spent from his confession, sinks into warm love that burns his fear away like mist in the noontime sun.

 

(Tadashi doesn’t say that he forgives him with words. But then again, he doesn’t really need to.)

 

oOoOo

 

Tadashi holds Hiro - tiny, shuddering, beloved Hiro - close to his heart, and he’s filled with love and pain and _fury_ like he almost can’t believe, that spills harsh breaths from his lungs and bursts in fire flaring bright, surges in waves of jagged darkness behind his closed eyes. He’s let go of his upset at Hiro’s abuse of Baymax, because he loves his brother more than he can ever be angry and Hiro regrets that lapse more than anything, but…

 

Callaghan set the fire that hospitalized him. Callaghan would have gladly ruined a thousand lives for his own vengeance, and Callaghan nearly broke Hiro’s heart a thousand times over.

 

Tadashi’s never going to forgive Callaghan. _Never_.

 

Hiro stiffens, then twists to stare up at Tadashi. He chews at his lip nervously then says, in a voice that’s thick and wavering, “Please don’t, Tadashi. Don’t say that.”

 

“Hiro,” Tadashi snaps - not at Hiro, but at the heavy, choking ashes pressing down the air, at the specter of a man that’s going to haunt their nightmares forever - “He hurt you.”

 

It’s only three words, that don’t really explain anything. And yet… they explain everything, because Hiro might be at fault for misusing Baymax to attempt murder, but Callaghan is the one who pushed his brother to that point, Callaghan is the one who stole a miracle so that he could twist it into a curse, _Callaghan is the one who hurt Hiro_.

 

He doesn’t _deserve_ to be forgiven.

 

Hiro speaks again (and Tadashi thinks he needs a new brain-to-mouth filter or something, because he apparently can’t keep words in his head now), saying “You think I don’t know that? He nearly killed you, and he said _that was your mistake_ , Tadashi! _I know he doesn’t deserve forgiveness_!”

 

Hiro’s worked himself up, and he abruptly breaks off to calm down his rough breathing and rapidly beating heart, so that he can speak in a whisper instead of a climbing shout.

 

(He doesn’t want to wake Aunt Cass and Mochi - and neither brother knows that the two are already awake, that Cass holds Mochi bundled up in her arms and they both stand sentinel in the darkness, just out of sight.)

 

In silence, Tadashi waits for his brother to speak - and in silence broken, Hiro takes a deep breath to continue, “Tadashi, that’s what forgiveness is… not deserved, but freely given. And, I know what he did, but you can’t just hate him… that’ll only hurt you instead.”

 

“Hiro…”

 

“Callaghan nearly became a murderer and destroyed so much because he couldn’t forgive Krei, because he let it poison his heart, Tadashi,” he says, begging for his brother to understand, “I nearly killed Callaghan, and Baymax too, because I couldn’t forgive him. You can’t be the same, Tadashi. You _can’t_.”

 

“Hiro,” Tadashi protests, “That’s different.”

 

Hiro shakes his head, speaks over Tadashi’s defense.

 

“It’s not, though,” he says with grief in his voice and remorse in his heart, “Callaghan tried to kill Krei because he thought he lost Abigail. _I_ tried to kill him because I thought I lost you. If it wasn’t for the others and Baymax, I would have destroyed Callaghan. I would have been exactly the same as him. It’s not worth it - trying to get revenge, not being able to forgive. It’s poison, and it doesn’t change anything. Hate doesn’t make anything right.”

 

Tadashi is contemplatively still, staring at him for a moment, then two, then three. Hiro looks up at him and his eyes are wide with panic, filled with both the prayer that his brother isn’t angry with him (doesn’t hate him) and dwindling hope as only silence fills the room.

 

It’s a face that Tadashi never wants to see again, so he smiles and murmurs, “Hey, I’m not angry at you, don’t worry”. He’s still meditative though, and after a pause Tadashi, hesitant and soft-voiced, asks, “Then… you’re not angry anymore?”

 

Hiro shakes his head, and Tadashi feels the brush of shaggy hair across his collarbone. “Of course I’m angry. Just thinking about Callaghan makes me angry sometimes. But, I know why he did all that, and I almost did the same. I would have _been_ the same, if I hadn’t had everyone to stop me. That’s why, Tadashi, _please_  don’t hate Callaghan.” Don’t hate me, Tadashi hears clear as day.

 

For his baby brother, what can he do but answer?

 

“Alright. I’ll forgive him. For you,” he murmurs, burying his nose into Hiro’s fluffy hair. “Because you’re so much wiser than he is, because I love you more than I could ever hate him. Is that alright with you?”

 

Hiro nods sleepily into his nightshirt, and Tadashi can’t help but grin as he feels the curve of a smile pressed into his shirt, as he imagines the bashful blush that follows.

 

Tadashi waits until he’s sure that Hiro’s fast asleep before he (rhetorically) asks, “When did you get so wise?”

 

(And, unnoticed, two sentinels return to their room.)


End file.
